


Nothing to It

by loganhowlett



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, a reader fic if you want it to be, there's something specific about her eyes in case i want to continue this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loganhowlett/pseuds/loganhowlett
Summary: “It’s probably for the best,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the situation.  “wouldn’t want a guy like me dragging you down.”“You wouldn’t.”
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	Nothing to It

Steve didn’t understand why Bucky always dragged him to various events – parties, celebrations, double dates – all situations fit for someone equipped with social skills, skills that he seemed to be lacking if people’s responses to him had been any indication. Bucky stood confidently among a group of party-goers, head tilted back with laughter as his infectious personality spread throughout the throng of people that obviously ogled over him. Steve watched from his seat at his table, empty aside from himself and pairs of shoes littered on the chairs that had been abandoned by girls who wanted to dance comfortably.

His fingers tapped anxiously on the table. They’d only been in the club for a short amount of time, but Steve was already prepared to head out at any moment and seek the comfort and protection of his apartment. There, he could be surrounded by his books and his sketch paper instead of people that he’d never be good enough for. Books couldn’t take him in an alley to use as a punching bag. Paper couldn’t laugh at him if he were to ask to dance.

Thoughts rolling around in his head, he took no notice of the group of men that approached his table.

“Get a load of this!” a cocky, familiar voice alerted Steve and his eyes rose up to the source, Clyde, a tall man with curly blonde hair whose favorite pastime was poking fun at tiny ‘ol Steven Rogers, or _punching_ fun to be more accurate, the bruise on his side flaring up at the reminder. "No date, Rogers?"

“What do you want, Clyde?” Steve sighed.

He spread his hands out in a you-know-why fashion. “To check up on my good pal's love life. How many girls have thrown themselves at you tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Shut up.”

Clyde pretended to look offended. “You’re not telling me you haven’t danced with anyone yet?”

Steve looked down at the table, avoiding Clyde’s taunting eyes. He didn’t see that someone a few tables over had paid notice to the debacle, leaning closer to hear more clearly.

“Surely someone here wants to take this stud for a dance.” Clyde said, eliciting chuckles from the small group surrounding him.

“He’d probably get stepped on.” One of them chimed in.

“Maybe you’re right.” Clyde said. “It would be too dangerous for Steve to dance with a girl. Wouldn’t want him getting hurt.” A threat hung on the edge of that last sentence. The bruise made itself known again, making Steve shift slightly as the pain stung his side.

The stubbornness that made Bucky furious bubbled up inside of him, the same stubbornness that Bucky claimed always got Steve in trouble, making his legs stand and scoot the chair behind him with a screech. The action caused a chorus of “oohs” to erupt from the group, but Clyde’s focus was kept on Steve, his eyes glaring sharply at the smaller man. The playful façade was wearing off.

“Go away, Clyde.” Steve’s voice was sturdy. For such a frail person, he could make his voice stronger than even his most muscular opponent.

Clyde began to circle the table, getting closer to Steve. “What are you gonna do about it?”

He had almost reached Steve when a voice rang out and a hand was placed on Steve’s shoulder. In the split second that he felt the sensation on his skin, he automatically braced himself for a punch or a kick or whatever new method of inflicting injury Clyde had in store for him, but there was no pain. The hand on his shoulder was gentle, and when he looked at the owner, he saw that it wasn’t Clyde or one of his buddies, but a woman.

“Darling!” she said, placing her other hand on the front of the same shoulder. “I’m sorry I took so long with my friends. Now, how about a dance?”

Steve was at a loss for words. Punches he could handle, but this was something else entirely.

Clyde’s intimidating demeanor changed to that of shock and confusion. “You’re…” he said, pointing at the woman. “on a date with him?” his finger switched in Steve’s direction.

“Of course.” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Steve stared forward at nothing, mouth agape. “I’m the luckiest girl here.”

“No way a dame like you is here with him.” Clyde said, shaking his head.

“Who else would I be here with?”

“Anyone.” He said, gesturing to the entirety of the club for emphasis.

She rolled her eyes as if he had just said the silliest thing she had ever heard. “I wouldn’t be here with anyone else. When…he…” she struggled with her words for a second, trying to indicate Steve but not knowing his name, “when he asked me to go dancing with him, I couldn’t refuse.”

Steve cleared his throat, finally regaining some kind of composure, if you could call it that. He wouldn’t. “Yeah! Yeah. When I saw her I just…I just had to ask her…and…and she said yes.”

She grabbed his arm like they were taking a stroll in the park. Steve felt like he was going to be sick, but in a good way, also in a bad way, as Clyde’s skeptical eyes looked upon them. Steve managed to stare straight at him without faltering, though his brain was screaming.

“Fine.” Clyde backed away, surrendering. “Have fun with tree branch over here.”

Steve’s eyes closed with relief, annoyance, and nervousness all at once as Clyde and his pals sauntered away. He felt her hands slip away from his arm and suddenly felt off balance, though he stood sturdy.

They spoke in unison.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve looked at her, his brow scrunching up in confusion. “You’re sorry? For what?”

She put her arms at her side sheepishly. “For bombarding you like that. I saw that they were bothering you and I…I just felt like I had to do something.”

Steve felt a warmth in his chest at her words. Rarely did anyone step in and stand up for him, aside from Bucky.

“You didn’t bombard me. Well-“, he cut himself off, scratching his eyebrow nervously. “I was a little confused at first but I…I caught up with you. I’m just not used to beautiful women being so kind to me.” His eyes went wide at his admission. “I didn’t mean to call you…I mean you are…that was too much. I’m-“

She laughed loudly, cutting him off. He’d done it again. Messed up a social interaction with a woman, and one that was paying him mind at that. _Well done, Rogers_ , he thought to himself. He was prepared for her to walk away like all the others before her had done, same disdain on their face mixed with a healthy dose of amusement. But that wasn’t the case.

“Would you like to dance?” she asked him, eyes sparkling.

Steve might have forgotten how to breathe. Or blink. Or stand. All his bodily functions decided to break down all at once at the question. He managed to get a few jumbled words out.

“I..you..that’s…”

She looked at him kindly, her head tilted slightly to the side.

“You don’t…” he rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. “You don’t have to pretend to be on a date with me anymore. You managed to get them to leave me alone.”

“Won’t it be suspicious if we don’t spend time together now? Besides, I’d like to dance with you.”

“You would?” he asked, heart racing.

“Yes.” She said, smiling at him.

“I…I wouldn’t want to keep you from your friends.” _Just say yes, you idiot_ , he thought.

She reached for his hand. “I’ll just have to tell them that I met someone and had to dance with him.”

He looked at her extended hand as if it were something alien to him, but it was something that he wanted to hold. Badly. And that he did. She led him to the dancefloor where other couples were swinging their bodies and holding onto each other. Bucky, across the room, took notice of the two of them as they were on their way, his eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know how to dance.” He admitted, face tilted downwards.

“Nothing to it.” She said dismissively, encouragement behind her words. “And I promise I won’t step on you.”

He chuckled at that. “I’d be more worried about me stepping on your feet.”

She laughed in return as the music began to dwindle down into something slow. She placed her hand on his shoulder and extended her hand. He took it and placed his other on her waist, feeling awkward, but excited, and began to move slowly to the music.

“See?” she said. “Nothing to it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

They stood there for the longest time, dancing to the music that the band was playing as the crowd started to thin. They officially introduced themselves to each other, hands holding hands and waists and shoulders, their bodies gently flowing along with the music. For the first time, Steve didn’t feel awkward or out of place. He felt like he belonged. When she rested her head on his shoulder, he let his eyes flutter shut and for a moment it was just the two of them in the room. It wasn’t until he heard his name being called in a familiar voice that he let his eyes open.

“Steve?” Bucky said, approaching them, standing among the now small group of couples dancing to the music. Steve turned towards him, the hand that was holding hers staying in place nonetheless. She didn’t remove it from his timid hold. “Who’s your friend?”

“She’s a superhero, that’s who she is.” He said, making her laugh. “She saved me tonight.”

At Bucky’s confused look, he continued to explain.

“Clyde and his guys were coming after me again. She stepped in and pretended to be my date.”

Bucky smiled at them knowingly. “Doesn’t look pretend to me.”

“How about a real date sometime?” she said, turning her head towards Steve, who at her question began to stammer.

Bucky clasped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Are you kidding? He’d love to!”

“I,“ Steve laughed nervously. “I would. I would love to.”

The date ended up being cancelled. Not because of a change of heart on her part, but the war. Endless times had Steve faked his enlistment form in order to get a chance to fight, but he was always turned down on account of his multitude of ailments, not to mention his tiny stature.

Someone finally saw that spark in him that couldn’t be tamed. “Maybe what we need now is a little guy,” was what Dr. Erksine had said to him the night they met.

It tore Steve apart to have to cancel a date with the first girl that had ever shown interest in him and that he was looking forward to spending time with, but this is what he had been waiting for. Besides, he couldn’t let Bucky go fight this war alone, no matter how many battlefields apart they were physically.

She’d given him her address, so he went to her apartment to let her know.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting on her couch. “I wish I could go.”

She smiled, the gesture not reaching her eyes. “Me too.”

“It’s probably for the best,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the situation. “wouldn’t want a guy like me dragging you down.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Steve bowed his head abashedly as she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Be careful.” She whispered. He promised her he would.

If careful meant that he was to be picked for an experiment that would turn him into a super soldier with abilities beyond what he could have ever hoped for, then he certainly kept his promise.

The serum had made him grow exponentially in a matter of minutes. Where frail bones and a petite frame were before, sturdy muscles and towering height now took their place. Girls certainly didn’t walk away from him now, rather towards him, practically throwing themselves at him. It was almost too much to handle sometimes. The sweet smiles, the fluttering eyelashes, those types of gestures never seemed to be directed towards him before. He’d often find himself wondering what she, the kind girl who’d pretended to be his date and then actually, magically, asked him on a real date, would think of him now.

He’d never thought too lowly of his own looks before, just that he wasn’t up to par with the rest of the guys. Bucky was big and broad, and all the girls found him handsome. Steve had never been handsome before the serum, according to himself. _Maybe_ he could be considered cute, someone who could make a girl go “aww” if he did something dorky, but never handsome, not until now. Not that he looked in the mirror now and was full of himself, but girls’ reactions to him now provided him with a bit more confidence than he had before.

Steve wondered if the girl from the club would find him appealing now. Maybe small and gangly was her type. Maybe she wouldn’t feel the same way towards him now that he was big.

These were his options: be stuck in a lab, being used as a test subject, or wear tights and appeal to the masses on stages across the country as “Captain America”. The latter ended up being his choice, though he didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into when he decided. He was told he was going to the most important battlefield of the war. He didn’t realize that battlefield would include musical numbers.

After his show in New York, fans rushed towards him for pictures and autographs. He didn’t understand why people were so fond of him. All he did was go on stage and pretend to punch bad guys. It wasn’t like he was out there doing something important. Boosting morale was good and all, but he felt like a puppet on a string. He appreciated the fans, though. They were always very happy to meet him.

He was being ushered out of the theater when he heard his name come from somewhere in the room. There was no, “Captain America!” or, “Captain!”, just his name, different from the way other people would say it to get his attention for a picture. There was a sense of familiarity. When he searched the room for who called him, his eyes landed on her. _Her_.

She held her arm with her opposite hand timidly as she approached him, a far reach from the confidence she showed the night she pretended to be his date. He felt his heart start to beat at a concerning pace and wondered if she was feeling the same. If he tried, he could answer his own question and hear the _thump, thump_ of her heart himself with his new senses, but he would feel like he was intruding on her somehow.

“It’s really you.” She said, looking up at him. When they’d seen each other before, she could look straight ahead at him. Now he was exceptionally taller. It was strange for him that he was looking downwards at her rather than straight ahead. He wondered if it would feel different to dance with her now that his height had been so drastically altered.

He let out a noise that was part sigh, part laugh. “I think there’s more of me now than the last time you saw me.”

She smiled, his remark easing her nerves. “I think you might be right.”

“How are you?” he asked. It was partly a way of filling the conversation, talking to girls still wasn’t his strong suit, but mostly because he genuinely wanted to know.

“Glad to see you again.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Steve hoped she couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “And you?”

“Been keeping myself busy with all…” he gestured towards the theater. “this.”

“You’ve become important to lot of people, you know. Everyone I know reads your comics.”

He put his head down, embarrassed. “The comics, yeah. It’s all very…strange.”

She nodded her head sympathetically. “I know this all must be a lot for you.”

He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Making people happy is worth it.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“Me?”

“Are you happy?”

The question took him aback. He’d never considered his own feelings in all of this. Yes, sometimes the work was tedious and felt menial, but he was doing what he was supposed to be doing, acting as a symbol to the nation, or at least that’s what they called him. His feelings didn’t have much to do with anything. He knew that people treated him like he was important, and maybe he was, but there were more important battles he’d rather be fighting. Actual battles. He knew this wasn’t where he truly wanted to be.

He answered truthfully. “I should be.”

She bit her lip, looking at him with concern. He felt his heart constrict. He didn’t want anyone worrying about him. There were more important things.

“I would be happy,” he added, and she perked up at his sudden outburst. “if I could see you again before I have to head to Europe.”

Each breath he took was a countdown towards the imminent rejection he would receive. No way she’d want to spend time with him now. Before the serum, he wasn’t enough, but now, he felt like he was too much, yet not enough all at once. Muscles weren’t enough to get a girl to truly like you. Stare at you? Yeah. Like? There was no guarantee.

It seemed that Steve Rogers, whether short and small or tall and broad, never quite felt like he was enough.

She smiled abashedly, tilting her head down for a second. When she looked up at him, he couldn’t place the emotion he saw flicker across her features. “I wouldn’t think that Captain America would have time for a girl like me.”

He couldn’t believe that she felt like she wasn’t good enough for him. If anything, it was the other way around.

“If Captain America couldn’t make time for a girl like you, then he’s a giant loser who doesn’t deserve all the attention.” He said it half-jokingly, but with a sturdiness to his tone that showed that he meant it. 

Her lips curled up into a small smile.

“Okay, then.”

The city was no place for a peaceful date, especially when you were well known among the people. Captain America showing up in a restaurant, with a girl especially, could potentially cause a stir. Then again, perhaps no one would recognize him without the silly hat he had to wear.

Not that Steve thought so highly of himself to assume he’d be recognized and tracked down by numerous admirers, he just didn’t want anything to get in the way of their date.

There was a place he’d often go to when he was younger, away from the city and surrounded by nature. The smell of grass greeted you rather than the usual smell of the city. Here, the stars shone brightly in the sky, and the sky in the day was blue and dusted with clouds rather than fumes. It was the perfect place for a picnic.

They sat on the blanket that was spread over the grass and she eyed the basket that was sitting next to Steve’s leg.

“What has the chef prepared for us?” she joked, causing him to chuckle.

“A variety of things. You see, he didn’t know exactly what to prepare, so he brought just about everything.”

She nodded once. “I like everything.”

He laughed again and took out the food options one by one. There really was a variety of choices: fruits, vegetables, meats, sandwiches; she looked at the array before her, impressed.

“You really did bring everything.”

Steve shrugged.

“So,” she began. “how did everything happen?”

He told her everything that he was allowed, that he’d been chosen for an experiment, that said experiment made him bigger and stronger than he was before, that rather than fighting, his job was to boost morale back at home, though that she already knew. She’d also asked about Bucky, or as she knew him, his friend from the night they met. He explained that he’d gotten his orders from the 107th and had been shipped out a few nights later.

“You want to fight with him.” She said, as a matter of fact, rather than a question.

Steve nodded his head. “There are a lot of battlefields in this war. There’s not one I’d rather fight on than one with Bucky on it.” He smiled then, a cheeky grin that looked like he was up to no good. “If you got to meet him properly this time, I think you’d be good friends.”

“Really?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.

“Yeah. You’re alike in some ways.”

“How?”

He smirked. “You put up with me, for one.”

She laughed, gently nudging him. He exaggerated his response, falling on his side with an _oof_ like she’d pushed with all her might.

“Get up, Captain.” She said, chuckling.

“I like the view from down here.”

She raised her eyebrow at him, smiling, and his face turned red as he rolled over to burrow his face in the ground.

“You’re a knucklehead.” She said, shaking her head. His body vibrated with his laughter, his face still facing the ground.

“Comparison number two,” he said, sticking two of his fingers up. His voice was muffled. “you both like to insult me.”

“Someone’s gotta keep you humble, Mr. Star-Spangled-Man-with-a-Plan.”

His “ugh” in response was muffled, but loud enough to hear. She began to hum the tune to the aforementioned song the show girls sang about him. He turned his face from the ground, but squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’re evil.” He muttered.

“Like one of the villains from your comics?”

He pried one eye open before opening them both. “Yeah. The worst of ‘em.”

“Would those villains tell you that you’re cute when you’re embarrassed?”

He stuttered before he could get his sentence out. “Then I must look adorable.”

“You do.” She smiled fondly at him, but there was a sense of…something behind her words, in the look in her eyes, a depth that Steve couldn’t reach. She reached her hand over and smoothed a piece of Steve’s hair. Leaning down, she placed a warm kiss on his cheek that sent tingles throughout his body. When she sat back upright, it was like he was attached to her with a tight string that pulled him up towards her. His right leg was tucked underneath him, his left leg bent with his left arm resting on top. He was so close to her that he could feel her breathing.

“You do too.” He said lowly. His heart was racing. This close to her, he could see gold flecks in her eyes. From this position, they almost looked unnatural.

She leaned forward, leaving no space between them as her lips met his own.

There was a time where a girl, while posing for a picture with him, pressed a quick kiss to his lips. It had left him flustered and confused, and the feeling her lips left on his quickly faded away.

Now, sitting here among the trees and the wind, lips were pressed against his for longer than just a split second for a photo. Her soft hand was pressed against his cheek, and when she pulled away and looked him in the eyes, he counted the seconds that he could still feel the phantom pressure of her kiss. _One, two, three, four, five_ , the number got higher and higher as she smiled at him, a little shyly, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

If he could freeze a moment in time and stay there forever, he decided this was where he would choose to be frozen for all eternity.

A plane headed to New York. Bombs set to destroy. The downward tilt of the plane as it plunges into the Arctic. 

It wasn’t where he’d wanted to be frozen forever.

He’d been told it had been seventy years since he put the plane in the water, himself with it. He stayed there, frozen, unconscious, until he was found, the world going on without him and changing more than he could comprehend.

A man named Nick Fury, director of an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D., made sure Steve had assistance with adjusting to the new world he found himself thrown into. He was staying in a room in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s main buildings, enabling Fury to keep a close eye on him.

Fury had a few people come in and give him a quick lesson on what life was like in the twenty-first century, as if this drastic change that took place over nearly seven decades could be figured out in a matter of hours.

“Think you can handle the modern world, Captain?” Fury had asked him.

Steve stood composed, but the deep breath he took through his nose was visible in the rise and fall of his chest. He knew Fury hadn’t missed that.

There was a time when Steve didn’t even know how to dance. Now he didn’t even know how to be a part of the world, this blue planet that had gone on spinning while leaving him behind.

But he did learn to dance, didn’t he?

Steve’s mouth turned up in a subtle smile before he spoke.

“Nothing to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> i might have a slight idea for a part 2, but that's if people want it


End file.
